


Tempered Steele - Redux

by NorahBolt56



Category: Remington Steele (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorahBolt56/pseuds/NorahBolt56
Summary: This picks up where my Licence to Steele - Redux fanfic left off and is based on the premise that Laura and Mr Steele had a one night stand when they initially met. Thank you to the wonderful RS writers whose scripts I have borrowed from for this fic.
Relationships: Laura Holt/Remington Steele
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

A couple of months after Laura Holt and ‘Mr Steele’ came to their arrangement...

After the agency’s mail was delivered, Bernice brought it into Laura’s office. “Thanks,” Laura replied somewhat absently as Bernice handed it to her, as she was focused on something on her computer for their latest case, trying to bury herself in her work so as not to think about *him*.

As Bernice returned to the reception area, Murphy walked in with some sandwiches he’d picked up for their lunch. They’d just sorted out who’s was who’s when they heard Laura scream in her office. Both Bernice and Murphy rushed in there in alarm, wondering what was wrong.

“You all right?” Murphy asked with concern.

“What is it?” Bernice chimed in as she hurried to her side.

“Him! Look at those bills!” Laura ranted, her anger boiling over as she threw the numerous bills into the air.

“One round-trip chartered jet to Las Vegas, two thousand dollars. One evening gown by Louis of Beverly Hills, six thousand dollars. You know, he’s bought her enough flowers to open a botanical garden!”

“Who?” Murphy asked, somewhat perplexed.

“Her!” Laura exploded, her jealousy adding to her anger as she walked over to the bulletin board and pointed to a picture of a woman. ”Nadine — the peroxide piranha,” she seethed.

“But I thought that was his assignment. Keep her out of the way until you settled the Randall case,” Bernice pointed out, wondering why she was so rattled.

“I hate to admit it, but he seems to be doing an excellent job. I mean, we haven’t seen Nadine in weeks,” Murphy added and he had to admit he was kind of glad that had also kept Steele away.

Laura however didn’t share his opinion. “We haven’t seen Mr. Steele either, and the case has been closed for three days!” she pointed out angrily, trying to keep her emotions in check but failing miserably. Even though it had been her idea for them to adopt a ‘no mixing business with pleasure’ rule she was starting to really struggle with it. The thought of him with another woman had affected her more than she would like to admit – especially when try as she might, she couldn’t stop her mind going back to the night they had spent together and the connection they’d had which went beyond the merely physical. 

Then there were the bills he was racking up that the agency, her agency, would have to pay for. Was he deliberately trying to provoke her? she wondered. 

“Guess he got a little carried away,” Bernice stated drolly as Laura frowned then replied, “Well, we may never see him again unless his credit or his stamina runs out,” and she knew from experience that he certainly had some stamina.

“Well, we know he was in San Francisco two days ago,” Bernice informed her.

“How do we know?” Laura asked.

“We just got a bill from Ernie’s,” Bernice stated, giving Laura a wry look.

“Oh!” Laura exclaimed in frustration.

“Hold it, Laura. Calm down, huh?” Murphy implored her but Laura was having none of it.

“We’ve got to do something to get his attention,” she stated firmly, an idea popping into her head as she angrily threw a dart at Nadine’s picture.

**********************************

That night, Remington Steele was at a restaurant with Nadine. As she went to eat some caviar Remington stopped her.

“Uh-uh, Nadine. Never bite. Always nibble,” he encouraged her, laying on the charm, his innuendo not lost on her. 

Nadine nibbled the caviar as she flashed him a sultry look which was rewarded with a smile.

“More champagne?” he offered as he went to grab the bottle.

Nadine shook her head.

“Anything?” Remington asked with a meaningful look.

“Just a cozy place to do some serious nibbling,” Nadine murmured, impatient to be alone with him again. 

Remington smiled, as much to himself as to Nadine. It really was like shooting fish in a barrel sometimes, this whole seduction thing, he thought a little ruefully to himself. Daniel had first taught him the art of seducing a woman when he was just a teenager – how to lay on the charm, wine & dine her, a meaningful look here, a brush of the hand there, perhaps a subtle innuendo or two but always remaining a gentleman, and then before you knew it she’d be putty in your hands. And then he had honed his skills over the years with countless women.

But to be perfectly honest, he had to admit he was getting a bit bored with it – he needed a challenge and he knew just the woman who fit that bill. The one who he had shared the most amazing night (and part of a morning) with and who had intrigued him like no other woman had ever done. The one he was trying to make jealous by carrying on with Nadine, not to mention trying to infuriate by wracking up extravagant bills on the agency expense account. He wanted to get Laura Holt’s attention anyway he could.

He wondered if she was finding it as difficult as he was to stick to their ridiculous ‘not mixing business with pleasure’ agreement as he wondered for the hundredth time how he had ever let himself agree to that. But he knew why – she was only going to let him stick around if he did agree to it and he knew, whatever it took, he wanted to stick around. He’d been confident that he could change her mind on that point, but a couple of months in and she still seemed to be determined to stick to it, much to his chagrin. But as he had told her, he was a man who did enjoy impossible challenges, no matter how challenging they were proving to be.

And so he had decided that perhaps a more direct course of action was required. Flirting with her and trying to charm her back into his bed had so far proved unsuccessful, so perhaps making her jealous might work instead he had decided. Not that Nadine wasn’t attractive – she was his usual ‘type’ after all, tall, blonde & glamorous. He’d showered her with gifts and lavish dinners, not to mention showing her a very good time in the sack. But he couldn’t keep thoughts of a certain petite, brunette away – wishing it was her bed he was sharing instead of Nadine’s. Oh he’d certainly done a good job of keeping her away while Laura and Murphy wrapped up the Randall case, but he was hoping he had done an even better job of getting to Laura.

Figuring though he may as well make the most of his evening of seduction and enjoy the fruits of his labours, Remington then motioned the waiter over to get the check, not realizing he was about to find out just how much he was getting to Laura.

The waiter placed the check on the table then said with some trepidation, “Sorry, Mr. Steele, but I’m afraid your account has been closed.”

“Closed?” Remington asked with some confusion.  
The waiter nodded in confirmation as Remington muttered in an annoyed tone, “Oh, very well,” then searched his suit pocket for his wallet and handed his credit card to the waiter. The waiter thanked him then took the card to put the payment through.

Remington then turned to Nadine, switching on the charm again. “You have made this evening so…extraordinarily special. I’m going to do something I’ve never done before,” he murmured as he kissed her hand.

“Oh, I hope so,” Nadine breathed, wondering what other sensual talents he possessed, other than what he’d already ably demonstrated over the last couple of weeks.

Remington handed Nadine a brass nameplate with his name engraved on it, stating with a grin, “A forget-me-not,” the gesture having the intended effect as Nadine exclaimed with delight, “Oh, Remington!”.

The waiter however interrupted them when he came back to the table and announced, “I’m sorry, Mr. Steele, but I have orders to confiscate your credit card.”

“What?!” Remington snapped incredulously.

“I don’t know anything about it, sir. All they said was that I had to confiscate the card,” the waiter apologised.

“Then how am I supposed to settle this?” Remington demanded, fuming to himself, “Bloody hell! I bet Laura’s behind this! I wanted to make her jealous, not cut off my credit!”

“You could try cash, sir,” the waiter offered.

“Cash? I never carry cash. It’s so bulky,” Remington scoffed in disgust, then out of options he turned to Nadine. 

“I have some money,” she offered as she turned over the check. “Wow!” she gasped in shock as she saw how much it was. 

“Now, you’ve upset the lady,” Remington remarked with a frown to the waiter. 

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the waiter apologized to no avail.

“If I weren’t so annoyed, I’d be embarrassed,” Remington snapped. He then turned to Nadine and grabbed her wrap for her. 

“Allow me to repay you over breakfast in the morning, my dear,” he said as he draped it over her shoulders with an apologetic smile.

As they went to leave the restaurant, they came across Claude the maitre’d. Remington turned to Nadine saying a little awkwardly, “Uh, Claude will have to be taken care of too”.

Nadine pulled out cash from her purse. ”This all right?”

“More than adequate,” Remington replied with a tight smile as she handed the tip to Claude.

They stepped outside to find it raining heavily. The doorman put an umbrella up for the two of them as they waited for their car to pull up. 

“Should I, uh..,” Nadine asked Remington as she motioned towards the doorman.

“Uh, just a few dollars,” he replied hurriedly then cleared his throat awkwardly as Nadine tipped the doorman who thanked them.

Trying to hide his embarrassment & infuriation, Remington bundled Nadine into the car as soon as it pulled up, thinking determinedly to himself, “okay game on Miss Holt.”  
****************************************************************


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, a very annoyed Remington arrived at the office.

“Mr. Steele,” Bernice greeted him with some surprise, due to his extended absence from the office.

“Miss Wolf”, he greeted her, his tone clipped.

“Foxe,” she corrected him.

One of the many clients waiting for him approached Mr Steele and shaking his hand introduced himself. “Mr. Steele. It’s a pleasure, sir. I’m Liebowitz. You know, the Morton matter.”

“Ah, yes, yes. A very complex situation,” Remington stated quickly.

“But it’s been resolved,” Leibowitz replied in confusion.

“Uh, complex but easily resolved,” Remington answered with a smile without skipping a beat, looking to Bernice for confirmation as she nodded.

He then entered Laura’s office, taking off his sunglasses as he did so, determined to have it out with her. Bernice was hot on his heels as she followed him into the office.

“Ms. Wolf..”

“Foxe,” she replied with annoyance.

“What?” Remington asked, not really listening to her as he was more focused on finding Laura.

“I’m a Foxe, not a Wolf. Bernice Foxe,” Bernice stated emphatically as she followed him into Murphy’s office.

“Call me Wolfe one more time, I’ll tell Laura you’re hanging around the office,” she threatened.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Out,” Bernice informed him as she followed him into ‘his’ office.

“I can see that. Where?” Remington replied in a frustrated tone.

“That’s not for publication,” Bernice retorted.

“You don’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation. She has closed my checking account. I am on the brink of financial not to mention physical oblivion,” Remington stated with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll give her the message,” Bernice replied sarcastically which annoyed him even further.

“Very well, Ms. Whatever. How would you like me to personally handle every one of those cases out there?” he threw at her as he went to make his way to the front door of his office.

“You wouldn’t!” Bernice retorted, suddenly starting to worry. She knew Laura wouldn’t be happy at all if she let that happen.

“Where is she?” he demanded again and by the look he gave her Bernice knew he was serious.

“At a motel on Pico”, Bernice conceded defeat.  
*******************************************************

Meanwhile Laura was busy undercover at said motel, trying to trap a suspect in the case they had picked up for Dillon Electronics. Laura had gone undercover many times in many different scenarios in her work as a detective and had developed quite a flair for it, changing her manner or look or accent or whatever was needed to play the required part. She always hated it when she had to go undercover in this type of scenario though, having to resort to using her body rather than her brain to get the desired information.  
She had been posing as a secretary for Dillon Electronics for the past three weeks in an attempt to find out who might be trying to steal their research. It didn’t take long for her to grab the attention of a regular delivery man who asked a lot of interesting questions about said research, that she appeared to be more than willing to answer. She had played her part to perfection, pretending to be a bored married woman who was looking for some excitement on the side and after some serious flirting on Laura’s part she’d had him hooked, fooling him into thinking that he was using her when it was really the other way around.

He had suggested earlier that day that they spend their lunch hour doing something more interesting than eating sandwiches and Laura had readily agreed, suggesting they go to a nearby motel on Pico. Unbeknowns to him, she had tipped off Murphy where they were heading and he and their client Roger Dillon were in the room next door, listening in to the conversation through the bugging device Murphy had planted in there, hoping to catch the suspect revealing how he was planning to steal the research from Dillon’s company.  
Upon arriving at the motel room the man wasted no time stripping off his shirt and trousers, then lying on the bed, nodded to Laura with a grin to do the same.  
Faking a nervous laugh she removed her jacket first, taking her time, then putting on a Southern accent she said, “This is a first for me.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re going to learn to love it” the guy replied, ogling her as he did so and wishing she’d hurry up with getting undressed.

“Oh if my husband ever found out about this, he’d kill us both,” Laura stated.

“Well, I won’t tell if, uh, you won’t,” he replied with a sly smile which Laura presumed he thought was sexy but she couldn’t help thinking as she looked at him that he was nothing on Mr Steele.

In the next room, Murphy listened to their conversation through the bugging device, shaking his head as he did so. The thought of Laura with that guy was driving him nuts, almost as much as the thought of her with Steele.

“What is he saying?” Dillon asked in a whisper.

“Keep talkin’, creep,” Murphy muttered as he listened to the guy Laura was with and made notes of the conversation.

Dillon then grabbed Murphy’s arm. ”Look, we already know he’s behind it. Why can’t we just call the police?” he demanded.

“He’s gotta ask her to steal the information from your company. The minute he does we’ll grab him,” Murphy replied, hoping that would happen sooner rather than later. He didn’t like the idea of Laura being alone with that jerk one bit.

In the adjoining room, Laura removed her jeans and said. “Maybe I’ll take the rest of the day off,” as she threw her jeans at the man. He shook his head as he tossed her jeans aside and replied, “Uh-uh, baby, because your job is going to make us a lot of money.”

With that he got up from the bed, walked over to Laura, and taking her into his arms started kissing her on the neck. Trying to stay in character, Laura momentarily closed her eyes and imagined it was Mr Steele (in the absence of any other name to call the man with the blue eyes and mysterious past), kissing her instead, just like he had that wonderful night they had spent together. ‘Focus Laura’ she mentally chided herself as her thoughts began to stray from the job at hand.

Meanwhile upon hearing the suspect’s last statement, Murphy chuckled and gave Roger Dillon a thumbs up, thinking to himself, we got you, you creep. .

“What do you mean?” Laura asked, feigning ignorance in an attempt to get him to reveal more. The guy swept her off her feet then chuckled as he sat down on the bed, Laura in his lap.

“ Well, you see, it’s uh—it’s like this. You give me some material…” he replied as he kissed her on the lips, just as Remington barged into the room.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do!” he announced angrily to Laura as he pulled off his sunglasses, his words having a double meaning as he noticed her state of undress and in the arms of another man which only added more fuel to his fire and to his surprise, he suddenly felt very jealous. That guy, whoever he was, was getting more of a feel of her than he’d had in over two months. The irony of that wasn’t lost on him. as trying to make Laura jealous was what he’d been doing just the night before. He momentarily forgot he was there to confront her about cutting off his credit but then quickly regained focus, although he was finding it a tad difficult to concentrate on Laura’s face and not let his eyes wander lower to her partially clad bottom half.

The other man meanwhile had jumped up like a scared rabbit and ran to the corner of the room, quickly grabbing his shirt and pulling on his pants.

“What are you doing here?” Laura demanded of Remington, with both surprise and anger that he had interrupted just when they were about to get the information the needed to nail this guy, who meanwhile asked nervously, “Are you the husband, fella?”

Ignoring him, Remington focused sole on Laura. “You closed my checking account!” he threw at her.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she retorted between clenched teeth as she grabbed his arm, trying to push him out the door before he blew the whole case, but he pushed her back just as determinedly.

“Hey! Wait a minute. I know that guy,” the suspect then stammered as he took a closer look at the man who had just barged in.

“No, you don’t,” Laura argued, trying to save the situation before he suspected something was afoot.

“Yeah, I do. That’s Remington Steele,” he stated.

“Remington Steele? No,” Laura tried to deny it as Remington glowered at her.

“It’s a setup!” the man announced in a panicked voice as he grabbed the rest of his clothes and dashed out the door.

Meanwhile In the next room, Roger Dillon asked Murphy impatiently, “What’s happening in there?”

“Don’t ask!” Murphy snapped in frustration as he tore off the headphones he’d been wearing and sped out the door of the room in pursuit of the suspect.

Laura also ran out of the adjoining room after the suspect, still without her jeans on, and spying Murphy urged him frantically, “Grab him, Murphy!”, as Remington followed her out of the room yelling after her, “We’re not finished!”

Murphy managed to grab hold of the suspect for a moment but he then broke free, kneeing Murphy then making his escape.

“Will somebody please tell me what’s happening?!” Roger Dillon demanded as he came up to Laura and Murphy.

“ A slight change of plans, Mr. Dillon,” Laura replied, thinking quickly as Murphy hobbled after the suspect. “Why don’t you go back to your office, and I will give you a complete update in about an hour,” she continued as Remington came up behind her.

“Well, at least it’s reassuring to know that Mr. Steele is personally involved”, Dillon replied, although by his tone Laura could tell he was less than pleased at the debacle that had just taken place.

Once he’d left she turned on Remington. “Three weeks playing secretary for nothing!” she spat at him as she elbowed him for good measure then made her way back to the motel room.

“Well, if you’d tell me what cases I’m supposed to be working on I wouldn’t have found myself in this embarrassing situation,” Remington retorted as he followed her.

“You’re not working on any cases anymore!” Laura snapped in frustration.

“Gratitude is not one of your strong suits. After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me—cutting off my credit, closing my checking account?” he continued to argue.

“You spent twenty-two thousand dollars in a single month! A month that doesn’t even have thirty-one days in it!” Laura pointed out as she pulled on her jeans.

“You asked me to keep Nadine occupied,” Remington tried to defend himself.

“Long-stemmed roses, two hundred dollar an ounce perfume, designer gowns.” Laura rattled off furiously as she continued getting dressed.

“Perhaps I did go a bit overboard, “he conceded then added, “but it’s for the good of the agency,”

“Well, for the good of the agency, from now on we discuss all expenditures in advance!” Laura threw at him.

“Fine, but I’ve written checks to people who don’t even take checks. They have names like Bruno and Guido, and they do some of their best work in cement.” Remington informed her.

“What kind of shady enterprise are you involved in this time?” Laura demanded, wondering if she really wanted to know.

“Danny’s Dessert, some of the finest horseflesh ever to grace a quarter-mile turn, he replied as he knelt down to help her find her shoes under the bed.

“Spare me”. Laura stated in disgust.

“The horse comes up lame. Bruno and his boys want to unload him. So, I put together a group of investors to turn him out to stud,” he explained as he handed one of Laura’s shoes to her. Laura took it from him saying, “Thank you. “I’ll try to convince Mr. Dillon that you barging in her was another brilliant Remington Steele tactic.” Remington helped her put on her jacket then flipped her hair over her collar as she thanked him again.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Remington agreed with her plan of attack.

To an observer, the easy familiarity with which he was helping her get dressed would suggest that they were a couple, something that they had just naturally slipped into for a moment without realizing.

As Laura made her way out the door Remington asked, “Uh, what about Danny’s Dessert?”

Laura turned to face him, her expression stormy. “Buy him some Ben-Gay,” she retorted in an annoyed tone then she left, leaving Remington to wonder what on earth had just happened. This was getting to be way more complicated than he had ever imagined…


	3. Chapter 3

Later that day Remington was back in his office. Upon hearing the phone on his desk ring and fearing who the call might be from, he tapped his fingers on the desk and debated whether he should answer it or not. He finally decided to pick it up, knowing he couldn’t put off the inevitable forever.  
  
‘”Bruno! It’s just as I suspected - bookkeeping boggle,” he answered it with false bravado in an attempt to explain his sudden lack of funds.  
  
A man dressed in a tracksuit then entered the office and approaching Mr Steele extended his hand to him. “Good to see you, Mr. Steele. I’m uh…” he went to introduce himself.

  
“Interrupting,” Remington cut him off in an annoyed tone, just as Bernice stepped into his office saying, “I told him you weren’t…,” but Remington signalled for her to leave, then ignoring the man, went back to his call.

“Bruno, do I detect a note of disbelief in your voice? Stiff? In what context are you using that word, Bruno?” he asked as he feigned a chuckle then he gulped a little at Bruno’s reply _._

“Ah, that context. Noon tomorrow? I’m not sure that my bank can transfer the funds by…” Remington tried to explain but was cut short when Bruno hung up.  
  
Remington then hung up as well, wondering what on earth he was going to do. The man who had entered his office uninvited then extended his hand to him again and introduced himself, “Jim Meecham, Meecham Exploration and Development. Let’s huddle.”  
  
Annoyed at the interruption, Remington shook Jim Meecham’s hand without even looking at him, and replied dismissively, “See Miss Holt. She huddles.”

Undeterred though, Meecham retorted as he took a seat, “I never scrimmage with second-stringers. See, my playbook looks like this. I’m in oil and natural gas based out of Oklahoma City. My pencil pusher says diversify, so I bought into Dillon Electronics. Only it seems like ever since I’ve been on that team, it’s been third-and-long. Somebody’s been red-doggin’ us.”

“We don’t handle animal cases,” Remington interjected, still trying to get rid of him.

“You’re already handlin’ this one. Dillon Jr. hired you folks to find out who’s stealin’ our research. They were just about to sack the guy in a motel, only some airhead busted up the play.”

That stopped Remington in his tracks momentarily as he suspected he was said airhead, but regaining his composure he quipped, “Competent help is hard to find in any profession.”

“That’s why I want you quarterbacking this operation, Mr. Steele. It’s time to stop pussyfootin’ around motels and get to the bottom of this thing,” Meecham stated adamantly.  
  
Not having much interest in the case though, Remington picked up the phone again and began to dial, hoping this Meecham bloke would get the message. “I ah never involve myself directly in a case. I function best in an advisory capacity,” he recited the line Laura had come up with as a cover for him and the charade they were running.  
  
He then turned around to talk on the phone, blatantly ignoring Meecham as he had more pressing matters to attend to, like appeasing Bruno and getting ‘Danny’s Dessert’ sorted.  
  
Jim Meecham however wasn’t going anywhere until he got Steele himself on the case.”I subscribe to the George Steinbrenner philosophy of life. If you want a piece of talent, you buy it. Twenty-five thousand dollars - cashier’s cheque made payable to you,” he persisted, which immediately got Remington’s attention. Remington quickly swivelled around on his chair to face Meecham again who dropped the cheque onto the desk.  
  
“Ah Ms. Wolfe, hold my calls. I’ll be in conference. Thank you,” Remington stated into the phone, smiling at Meecham as he did so, thinking this could be the answer to his little problem with Bruno.

********************************************************************  
  
After heading home to get changed into her work clothes, Laura then arrived at the agency. Bernice handed her the mail, alerting Laura as she did so, “Mayday” as she nodded in the direction of ‘Mr Steele’s’ office.  
  
Laura momentarily wondered what Bernice was referring to, then she heard two men laughing inside the office. She knocked on the door then entered the office, a fake sweet smile on her face, wondering what on earth he was up to now.  
  
“Excuse me, Mr. Steele”, Laura stated, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, as she entered the office to find Mr Steele and another man lounging around drinking whisky.

“Ah, come in, Ms. Holt, come in. Meech was just telling me about the time he wildcatted up Alaska way,” Remington greeted her with a grin.  
  
Laura closed the door behind her, and walked over to the two men. Remington then got up from his chair and introduced her to Jim Meecham.  
  
“The tanglefoot from the motel,” Meecham said, recognizing her name from the account Roger Dillon had given him of what had happened earlier that day.

“Now, Meech, let’s not blitz her buns.Ms Holt is one of my finest operatives,” Remington replied, sensing how infuriated Laura was getting and trying not to enjoy that fact too much.

“Oh, you’re too kind, Mr. Steele,” Laura put in, her voice heavy with sarcasm.  
  
The two men then returned to their seats, while Laura sat on the couch and stated, “We’re watching the young man’s apartment in case he shows up.”

“Why, that’s just fine for the taxi squad, but the coach here just convinced me that the only way to stop all these thefts is to install a complete security system,” Meecham dismissed her.

“We’ll start first thing in the morning,” Remington assured him.

Wondering what the hell was going on and barely containing her anger, Laura shot Remington a warning look saying, “May I respectfully remind you Mr. Steele that your enormous responsibilities preclude any personal involvement…”

“Now, little lady, when I buy seats on the fifty-yard line I expect to see the first team play,” Meecham interrupted her then added condescendingly, “Now, you let the coach do what he does best, and you well, you just do whatever it is you do around here.”.

He then got up to leave, grabbing the bottle of whiskey as he did so. “I’ll just doggie-bag this. See you later, Steele.”  
  
“Are you crazy?!” Laura demanded angrily once Meecham had left the office.

“He insisted I handle the case,” Remington informed her, the hint of a lopsided grin crossing his face.

“Insisted, my foot. You couldn’t even install a light bulb.” Laura scoffed.

“Piece of cake,” Remington retorted confidently.

“You know, you’re beginning to believe your own publicity. You are not Remington Steele. I invented Remington Steele. He’s a figment of my imagination,” Laura pointed out indignantly.  
  
Meanwhile Bernice stood outside the office door listening to Laura and Mr Steele argue over the top of each other, which was starting to become quite a regular occurrence.  
  
“I didn’t ask you to put my face in your figment!" Remington threw at her, although he knew technically that wasn’t exactly true. After all, he had adopted Remington’s Steele’s identity to suit his own purposes when they had first met and then he had put the idea to Laura for him to adopt the persona on a more permanent basis. But he had to admit, despite the advantages of his position such as the luxurious apartment and the tailored suits, he was getting a bit tired of being a mere figurehead, just a face to go with the name.

In the short time since he had adopted the name as his own he had found himself, a bit to his surprise, getting more interested in the actual cases Laura and Murphy were working on, admiring their skills as detectives. Laura especially had impressed him right from the start with her intellect, keen insights, determination and investigative skills – he had certainly never met a woman quite like her before. Or one quite as infuriating, he thought ruefully as they squared off against each other.

“I told you that was just…” she argued over the top of him as he continued talking as well, neither of them prepared to back down.

“Do you have any idea how draining it is to be Remington Steele?” he countered.  
  
“It must be agony living in an apartment I’ve only seen in the movies!” Laura snapped sarcastically.

Remington also had to admit he was finding arguing with Laura quite arousing, the two of them striking sparks off each other that he suspected were a result of the built up sexual tension between them. And finding her half undressed at the motel earlier had also sent his mind racing, remembering the amazing night (and part of a morning) they had shared together. Deciding it was as good a time as ever (seeing as they were both feeling rather ‘heated’) to try and have another shot at breaking her ‘no mixing business with pleasure’ rule, he leaned in close to her and said as he gave her a meaningful look, “We make such a winning combination,” in an attempt to convince her.

“We have a deal,” Laura stated emphatically, trying not to melt under his intense gaze and stay strong.

“Let’s enjoy our success,” he persisted, leaning in even closer to her.

“I do the work. You take the bows,” she reminded him of their agreement, which she was finding increasingly difficult to stick to, especially the ’no mixing business with pleasure’ part of it. Every day she came into the office to see him clad in another tailored suit she had to struggle to keep her mind from wandering to what lay under the suit, the memories of making love to him rushing back to her more often than she would like to admit.

“Allow our passions to erupt into something outrageously fulfilling,” he continued, as if reading her mind.

“You mean hop in the sack?” Laura asked, thinking to herself, ‘again’ as she tried to stop the memories of that amazing night & morning flooding back to her.

“A little crude, but to the point,” Remington replied with a grin, hoping he’d begun to finally crack her resolve.

“Love to”, Laura confessed but then regained her composure.

“Well, then?” Remington asked expectantly, thinking to himself, “Yes! She’s finally come to her senses.”

“But I can’t,” she continued as he looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and frustration.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“It’s tough enough pulling off this little charade without that kind of complication. As long as we’re in business, let’s keep it businesslike,“ she answered as she momentarily turned her back on him, knowing if she continued to look into those gorgeous blue eyes of his she’d be tempted to crumble.

“Tell old Meech that the press of other commitments forces you to turn Dillon Electronics over to Murphy and me,” Laura continued, suddenly all business again.

“Love to, but I can’t,” Steele replied as he popped his sunglasses on, thinking to himself, right two can play that game luv.

“Why not?” now it was Laura’s turn to ask the question.

“I gave my word, and everyone knows that Remington Steele’s word is his bond,” Remington replied as he finished off his glass of whisky, deliberately trying to infuriate her as much as she was infuriating him.

Laura glared at him, feeling frustrated as hell (in more ways than one), as he walked out of the office, Bernice managing to scurry away from the door right before he walked out.  
  
“Carry on, Ms. Wolf,” he quipped as he walked past her, enjoying deliberately annoying her too. Bernice flashed him a dirty look as she wondered to herself just how long Laura could keep this charade up for.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I've borrowed some text from the first chapter of my accompanying fanfic "Licence to Steele - Redux" (in case it sounded familiar :) )

After leaving the office, Remington made his way to a ‘wrong side of the tracks’ part of town and entered a mission for homeless people, where a man known as Wallace Immel (amongst other names in his former life) was speaking to a group of men who appeared down on their luck. Remington stood by the door, a smile crossing his face as he watched and listened to him.

“That’s the worst part of it, feelin’ sorry for yourselves. Nobody loves me. Nobody cares about me except my bottle or my needle. Oh yeah, I know what I’m talkin’ about because I know it’s gonna be hard to believe, but I used to be just like you. Shootin’ up all day and pukin’ up all night. Yeah, then I got the message. There is and was somebody who cared about me, the big “C”. Jesus Christ himself. I mean, you are lookin’ at a living, breathing testimony to the powers of the big fella. I mean to tell ya, if he can, if he can keep me straight for three years he sure as hell can do the same thing for you bunch of bums,” Wallace told the group assembled before him. He then spied the tall dark haired man who had just walked in and immediately recognized his old friend.

Keen to speak to him, Wallace urged the homeless men to get themselves something to eat, then walked over to his old friend. As he approached him he remembered the times they had spent together over the years, working jobs together and having a few laughs. It had been a while since their paths had crossed though, and as he looked at the clothes his friend was wearing he couldn’t help wondering what he’d landed himself in this time. Whatever it was, it sure looked like he had landed on his feet, he mused.

“Well, if it ain’t my old...” he went to greet him by one of his former names but Remington quickly shushed him and handed him a business card.  
  
“Remington Steele Detective Agency? How’d you wind up a detective?” Wallace read the business card with surprise, chuckling a bit at the irony of it.

“I had the face for it,” Remington replied drolly.

“Sure not like the old days, huh..” Wallace went to call him by the name he had previously known him by again.

“Eh..” Remington interrupted him.

“Uh, Remington, sorry,“ Wallace corrected himself and shook his head. “What a moniker.”

“I am in desperate need of your talents, Wallace,” Remington stated.

“Ah, I’m not in that line of endeavor anymore. The big fella frowns on it,” Wallace told him as he pointed upwards. He had trod the straight and narrow for three years now after finding his faith and had turned his back on his former illegal activities and had instead devoted his life to spreading the word and helping others who were in the same boat as he had been. So he was reluctant to get involved in anything like that again, even for an old friend.

“Nothing remotely tainted, I assure you. Since you’ve, ah, circumvented so many burglar alarms I thought you’d be just the chap to install one. Sort of poetic justice?” Remington put his proposition to him, but Wallace was still somewhat hesitant. “I don’t know. If I’m not around here, this place turns into a shootin’ gallery.”

“For a few day’s work for, say um, ten thousand dollars?” Remington persisted.

“Ten thousand dollars?” Wallace repeated in surprise as he pulled Remington aside. ”What I could do for these bums with ten grand,” he added, thinking of the good he could do with that kind of money.  
  
Remington wrote on his business card and handed it to Wallace saying, “My tailor. Have him whip you up something conservative yet dernier cri. Charge it to my account.”

“New name or not, you’re the same old highflier,” Wallace replied with a smile.

Remington smiled warmly back then shook him by the hand before leaving.

*****************************************************  
  
Later that night, Laura was sitting in her office, staring at the photo of the man with ‘the blue eyes and mysterious past’, wondering to herself, “Who are you?”. The chiselled jaw, the matinee idol good looks, the lock of hair falling over his forehead, just like it had when they were... She couldn’t help but remember how it had felt to have those full lips kiss her, those hands with the long, slender fingers caress her..

Lost in her memories of the night they had spent together, Laura didn’t hear Bernice come back into the agency at first as she called, “I’m back.”

She then walked into Laura’s office carrying a pile of files. “Homework. Surveillance on Marlene York, insurance description of the Ragotzy jewelry, and the wrap-up on the Morton case,” she said as she put the files down on the desk, noticing as she did so the photo Laura had been preoccupied staring at when she walked in.  
  
“Don’t you get enough of the real thing?” Bernice asked as she handed her the sandwich she’d grabbed her for dinner.

“What?” Laura asked, trying to look normal and not betray where her thoughts had been wandering. Little did Bernice know she’d had the real thing and though she’d told herself (and him) that it couldn’t happen again, she knew that she hadn’t had enough of him and she longed for more. She had wondered if she should tell Bernice all of what had happened between her and ‘Mr Steele’ or Ben Pearson, or whatever the hell his real name was, the night of the day he had walked into her life. But given the arrangement they had come to, they had agreed not to tell anyone and just keep it between the two of them.

Part of her felt bad not telling Bernice, who as well as her secretary had been her confidant and friend for a couple of years now, and as friends did, they usually told each other everything – especially when it came to their love lives. Not that Laura had had much of a one of late. Oh there’d been a few guys she’d dated after Wilson left her – Norman the stockbroker came to mind and a couple of others, but nothing serious. She’d been so busy working her butt off to make the agency a success she really hadn’t had the time anyway – well that’s what she’d tried to tell herself at any rate. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, the real reason was she was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again.

And that was another reason she was hesitant to tell Bernice the whole story. Because if she did, she knew she would be tempted to admit something she was scared to admit even to herself – she felt something for *him*. She had gone back to his hotel room that night with the intention of just having a one night stand – a bit of fun with an incredibly attractive, sexy man and scratch the itch she’d had for a while. What she hadn’t planned on was them having a connection that night that went deeper than just the physical – well she certainly had felt it, she wasn’t sure how he felt though. But there had been something when their eyes met at that magical moment, their hands entwined, something more that she certainly hadn’t been expecting.

Laura had always taken a logical approach to life – it suited her mathematical mind, and she didn’t really give much heed to notions like fate. But in that moment, all her logic and reasoning had gone out of her head and she had felt, as crazy as she knew it was, that their meeting had been destined to occur and that this man would change her life forever.

Bernice nodded towards the photo, bringing Laura’s attention back to the present.

“Oh.. I happened to come across it on my desk”, she tried to cover quickly but Bernice wasn’t convinced.

“Hey this is me remember? The belle of the ball, the life of the party – I’ve seen that look before, I’ve even had it a few times myself,” Bernice replied, giving her friend a knowing look.

Laura picked up the photo again, holding the sandwich Bernice had brought her in the other hand. “Who is he? What was he before he was Remington Steele?” she voiced aloud her earlier question.

“Who cares? He’s here, you’re here – go for it,” Bernice urged her, not knowing she already had.

“Then what?” Laura asked the question that had been on her mind since the day barely two months ago now that she had found him sitting behind ‘Mr Steele’s’ desk and they had come to their ‘arrangement’. She’d told him quite firmly that for this arrangement between them to work that they couldn’t mix business with pleasure - they should just carry on as if that night had never happened and it could never happen again. Problem was, that was easier said than done – especially when he kept trying to get her to change her mind and part of her wanted to do just that as well.

“Depends what you’re looking for. Me? I’m all partied out. What I want is a slightly dull, filthy rich husband. But if I were in the market for a heart stopping, teeth rattling, eye rolling fling..,” Bernice replied as she pretended to shoot the ‘target’ in the photo.

A rueful laugh escaped Laura’s lips as he thought to herself – that’s exactly what that night was. He was by far the best lover she had ever had – her teeth had been well and truly rattled. “You know it’s not just the free ride that keeps this clown around – its the challenge. I’m probably the only woman he’s ever met who didn’t tumble right into bed with him,” she stated, going along with the charade. Well technically that was true, she thought a little wryly – she didn’t tumble right into bed with him, it had been almost twelve hours since she’d first met him.

“Not a bad way to break the ice,” Bernice stated with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah,”’ Laura had to agree with a sigh – it certainly had been. “But I can barely keep him in line now - can you imagine what he’d be like if we turned that corner?” Again, she added silently. When she had gone back to his hotel room she had thought she wouldn’t see him again after he left in a few days time – all she would have would be the memories of the amazing night they had spent together, so she had thrown caution to the wind. But now everything had changed.

“Might be fun finding out” Bernice retorted, and despite herself, part of Laura agreed. Wild, crazy Laura she thought to herself – who acted before she thought. She should have known better – that part of her had got her into trouble before and she was loathe to let that happen again. So she decided, as hard as it might be, to focus on the agency and not lose her head again over *him*.

“I’ve worked too hard to risk everything just to get my teeth rattled,” Laura stated, trying to convince Bernice as well as herself, as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“So where does that leave you?” Bernice asked.

Laura pondered the question then replied with a mischievous grin as she shook her head and sat back down in her chair, “Itchy.” She’d had a taste, but she was itching for another…

When he had walked into the agency office barely two months ago, purportedly as Special Agent Ben Pearson, she had never suspected how much he would change her carefully ordered life – but change it he certainly had. Whether for better or worse though she still wasn’t exactly sure…

**********************************************************************


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Laura and Murphy drove up to the Dillon estate in Santa Barbara where the security system was to be installed, Roger Dillon having decided, at his mother's urging, that the company research would be safer there.

Remington had headed up earlier with Wallace, and some other guys Wallace had got together to form his ‘crew.’ He assured Remington he could vouch for them and that was enough for Remington – he knew Wallace was a man of his word. Remington wanted the security system installation to go smoothly for a couple of reasons – firstly, he wanted to make amends for the day before when he’d inadvertently blown Laura & Murphy’s covert operation apart, and secondly, and more importantly in his view, he wanted to prove to them that he could be more than just a figurehead and that he could actually contribute something useful.

He had caught up with Wallace again the night before to come up with some preliminary plans for the security system, the two of them enjoying working together again, albeit in a very different way to what they had previously done. They had also reminisced about ‘the old days’ as well as catching up on what they’d both been doing over the past three years. Wallace told Remington with pride about his daughter who had just graduated from college and the work he was doing at the Lost and Found Mission, and then he asked his old friend, “So what’s the real story with you? How on earth did you end up with this gig?”

A lopsided grin crossed Remington’s face as he replied with a chuckle, “It’s a long story mate.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Wallace replied with a chuckle of his own as Remington started telling him the story of how he had become Remington Steele.

Laura and Murphy also had their own conversation as they drove up to Santa Barbara in Laura’s Rabbit. “I’m telling you Laura – this is a mistake,” Murphy said for what seemed the hundredth time to Laura. She sighed and took one hand off the wheel to rub her forehead in consternation. Part of her was inclined to agree with him, but another part of her, the part that felt rather than thought, wanted to put her faith in Remington and give him the chance to prove himself to them – to her.

“I mean how does he even know this Wallace guy?” Murphy continued. “Old partners in crime are they or former cell mates perhaps?”

The thought had also crossed Laura’s mind she had to admit, but Remington had assured her Wallace was trustworthy and had turned his back on his former ways and that he would do a good job. And the fact that Roger Dillon and ‘old Meech’ were all for installing a security system, had made it even more difficult for Laura to say no. So despite Murphy’s misgivings she had agreed to go along with it, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake putting her trust in a man, that if she was being honest with herself, she hardly knew – after all, she didn’t even know his real name.

“Murph, let’s just give him the benefit of the doubt okay? He assured me he knows what he’s doing,” Laura stated, trying to convince Murphy as well as herself.

“Well I just hope you know what you’re doing Laura,” Murphy replied as Laura thought to herself, ‘So do I Murph, so do I.”

****************************************************************************

Once Laura and Murphy arrived they found Mr Steele and Wallace and a bunch of other men there, already busily working on the installation of the security system. Roger Dillon and his latest lady friend as well as his mother Hannah and Jim Meecham were also there, Meecham especially wanting to keep an eye on things and make sure everything was going to plan.

Murphy watched Wallace and his crew as they worked – he had to admit it looked like they were doing a good job. Perhaps too good, he mused as he walked over to Wallace and commented, “Your men are very efficient.”

“The best in the business,” Wallace replied. And they were – all like himself, former thieves who were experts at bypassing security systems. So as his old friend Harry, or whatever he was calling himself now, had said to him the day before, who better to install one?

“Right. Tell me Wallace, where did you first meet Mr. Steele?” Murphy persisted, determined to get the truth out of him and hopefully expose Steele, and finally pull the wool off Laura’s eyes that Steele with his smarmy charm and expensive suits seemed to have permanently put there.  
  


“Diplomatic corps,” Wallace provided the answer he and *Harry* had decided on in case anyone asked, as he cleared his throat a little nervously, hoping the detective wouldn’t notice. Harry had warned him this guy Michaels might start sniffing around, asking questions. “He doesn’t trust me - can you imagine?” he had told him with a laugh and a cheeky lift of his eyebrow as Wallace had chuckled as well, “Gee – I wonder why?”  
  
“In Paris it was. Spring of seventy-seven or was it seventy-eight? No, no, seventy-nine. That was a good year,” Wallace added to Murphy, going along with the story as Murphy looked at him skeptically.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Dannemora or Leavenworth?” he retorted, still wondering if Steele had done time with this guy at one point.  
  


“Rats,” Wallace replied as Murphy looked at him and asked, “What?”, wondering if he’d found him out.

“They got rats in the Seine big as Volkswagens,” Wallace stated with a grin, gesturing with his hands.

“Yeah,” Murphy replied with both disbelief and disappointment as he realised he wasn’t going to get anything out of Wallace.  
  


Meanwhile, Laura approached Remington who was looking at a floor plan. “Are you sure they know what they’re doing?” she asked in reference to Wallace and his crew.

“Between them, they’ve over seventy five years of experience,” he told her, thinking to himself, technically that was true even though it was experience with bypassing security systems rather than installing them.

Laura was deep in thought for a moment or two wondering where he knew Wallace from – another part of his mysterious past no doubt. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”, she then asked him, just as she’d wondered whilst looking at a photo of him the night before.  
  
Remington, avoiding the question, instead rattled off, “Humphrey Bogart to Ingrid Bergman. Casablanca, Warner Brothers, 1942.”

“This is no time to be quoting old movies,” Laura replied in exasperation at his evasiveness.

“Then stop asking old questions,” he retorted with a finality to his voice that let her know her line of questioning, for the moment at least, was over as he walked away from her.  
  


Hannah Dillon, Roger’s mother, then came up to Laura and offered her a cup of tea. “Tea time – you wanna swill some of this honey?”

“Thank you Mrs Dillon,” Laura replied gratefully.

“Hannah,” Mrs Dillon replied then added as she looked around, ”Oh what a mess. Packy’s probably doing a 360.”

“Packy?” Laura asked curiously.  
  


“My late husband – Patrick Joseph,” Hannah Dillon explained as she poured a cup pf tea for Laura and herself. "We started Dillon Electronics 40 years ago, making gyroscopes for the navy in our basement.”

“Tastes like raw crude don’t it?” Hannah asked Laura with a laugh when she saw the look on her face as Laura took a sip of the tea. “Packy had it special blended. Couldn’t stand it myself while he was alive but now it kinda keeps me close to him.’

“Well um your son seems to be carrying on in the family tradition..,” Laura remarked.

“Roger? Oh he’s carrying on alright,” Hannah replied in an annoyed tone as she cast a disapproving glance at her son and his latest ‘distraction’.

Hannah Dillon wasn’t the only one who wasn’t exactly happy with Roger. “Why the hell are we carting all this stuff up here?” Meecham demanded, as he followed Mr Steele down a staircase. He didn’t think storing the company research here made any sense – he just hoped Steele’s security system would do the trick.

“Stop and smell the flowers Meech - Santa Barbara’s lovely this time of year,” Steele replied as he looked out the window.

“It seems foolish keeping the research in the house…,” Meecham continued voicing his reservations but Mr Steele was in no mood for interruptions.

“Dillon’s orders,” he told Meecham.

“Well he may run the company but the old lady still runs him – she thinks it’s too risky at the plant,” Meecham argued.

“Now Meech I am personally supervising this entire operation – what could possibly go wrong?” Remington stated confidently in an effort to convince him.

************************************************

Given the late finishing time of the installation, Roger Dillon had invited them all to stay overnight at the house rather than driving back to Los Angeles that night. While they were all busy having dinner, masked men broke into the house. One climbed the roof, as another cut a circle out of a window to gain entry, while the third entered through a sawed out hole in the floor. The men successfully entered the library where the research was being held, but as soon as they took the files, alarm bells started blaring and reinforced steel grilles came down on the windows and door, preventing escape from the room. Upon hearing the noise of the alarm, Remington and the others made their way to the library, to find the grilles had dropped, trapping the would be thieves inside.  
  
“The key,” Remington announced loudly as he produced it from his pocket, then he put it in the control panel of the security system and turned it. The alarms then stopped and the grilles opened to reveal the three captive would be burglars, as everyone looked impressed at the security system working successfully. Remington noted happily the impressed look on Laura’s face, which meant more to him than all the rest of the hearty congratulations he was receiving.

He then signalled for the masked men to reveal themselves. As they pulled off their balaclavas they were revealed to be Wallace and two of his crew. Remington walked over to Wallace, and patted him on the arm with a smile, then he confidently addressed the other people in the room. “If the men who installed the system cannot breach it, then I’d have to say it’s foolproof.”  
  
As the assembled guests continued to congratulate Remington, Laura whispered to Murphy with a degree of admiration, “You’ve gotta admit – he pulled it off,” as Murphy nodded rather begrudgingly as he looked at Steele standing there looking very pleased with himself.

When they all finally went to retire for the night, Remington was on such a high he couldn’t help himself, trying to convince Laura to ‘celebrate’ with him. As he watched her go to enter the bedroom she’d been given for the night, he commented to her with a lopsided grin and a mischievous wiggle of his eyebrows, “Ah Laura my bedroom is conveniently located just across the hall from yours if you get lonely during the night.” Laura however rolled her eyes at him and retorted firmly, “I won’t” (although part of her was tempted to but she wasn’t going to let him know that) which was not the response he’d been hoping for.

  
In the early hours of the morning, there was a knock on Remington’s bedroom door which awoke him. Wondering, or rather hoping, if Laura had changed her mind he opened the door, only to be disappointed when he found not Laura, but Roger Dillon standing there, an angry look on his face.  
  
“Guess what?” he demanded as Remington suddenly looked worried. He followed Dillon downstairs to the supposedly secured library, dreading what he was going to find. His worst fears were confirmed when he found the security grilles wide open and the research stolen.

He clicked his tongue and muttered, “Oh my,”, not knowing what else to say, still shocked that someone had been able to bypass the security system. He and Wallace had designed it to be foolproof. It had to be an inside job he concluded – someone who knew where the main switch was located must have just turned it off then helped themselves to the research, he surmised.  
  
The rest of the house guests then entered the room as well. Seeing what had happened, Jim Meecham stated with exasperation, “Well, don’t everybody stand around like it’s a time-out. Call the police.”

“No! No. No. If this gets out, we’ll lose our government contracts,” Roger Dillon protested emphatically.  
  
Meecham then turned to Mr Steele and threw at him accusingly, “You install fifty-thousand dollars worth of equipment, and somebody just turns off the main switch, and walks out the front door.” Despite Meecham’s accusation though, what worried him the most was the furious, disappointed look Laura gave him.

“You mean this was an inside job?” Dillon asked with surprise.

“You’re all pro material, Dillon,” Meecham replied sarcastically.  
  
Murphy then entered the room after following a hunch once he’d discovered what had happened. “Wallace is gone,” he announced as he glared at Steele.

“Where?” Remington asked, refusing to believe that Wallace had had anything to do with the robbery.

“South,” Murphy threw at him sourly. He’d suspected all along that something like this would happen. He’d try to warn Laura but she didn’t want to listen to him and now they had egg on their face.

“Let me assure you, Mr. Meecham we’ll get back…,” Laura spoke up, trying to salvage the situation but Meecham cut her off.

“I’m gonna sue your agency till it comes up as dry as my last oil well,” he stated adamantly.

Remington observed the worried, disappointed look on Laura’s face as he desperately tried to think of a way to make things right. “It seems to me, um…,” he then paused as everyone looked expectantly at him (especially Laura) as he tried to find the right words. “We got off on the wrong foot this morning” he added with a nervous smile, not having a bloody clue what he should do next.

He had taken a gamble and he had lost, but what was worse was that what he had gambled didn’t belong to him – it belonged to Laura. He had gambled her agency and her reputation and had just made her life even more complicated than he had when he’d first walked into it. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he knew he had to fix things for her..


	6. Chapter 6

Later that night, Remington was in the limo, lost in thought while he watched an old black and white movie, The Thin Man ( _William Powell, Myrna Loy, MGM, 1934)_ on the tv. He was still trying to figure out how to make it up to Laura and make things right – not only for the agency, but also between them. When he’d decided to adopt ‘Mr Steele’s’ identity, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her or let her down, let alone put her livelihood in jeopardy.

He was also worried about his friend Wallace – he had disappeared without a trace which was not like him at all. He refused to believe Wallace had anything to do with the theft – they went back too far for Wallace to betray him like that, and that wasn’t his style anyway. He had tried not to think of it, but the only explanation that seemed to make sense was that Wallace had inadvertently caught the actual thief in the act and they had done something to him to shut him up. But he had searched the house and grounds of the Dillon estate as best he could and found nothing before they left that morning, well before Dillon threw them out would be a more accurate description, he thought ruefully to himself. Hoping that wasn’t the case and that Wallace would turn up safe and sound, he continued watching the movie for a bit, an idea forming in his head as the plot played out before him.  
  
Remington then picked up the car phone and dialled Laura’s number. She was at home, in front of her computer, doing a background check on Wallace Immel, still berating herself for trusting ‘Mr Steele’ and for letting her feelings get the better of her logic.

“Hello?” Laura answered the phone.

“Steele here.”

“What do you want?” she demanded, her tone less than happy as she was still angry at him for putting the future of the agency, her agency, in jeopardy.

“Are you alone?” Remington continued, undeterred by her tone.

“No - Wallace and I are sitting here making paper airplanes out of the research he stole,” she retorted sarcastically.

“That’s what I love about you, Laura. No matter how bleak the situation, you never lose your sense of humor,” he retorted. And even though he had said it in jest, both of them couldn’t help but be a bit surprised by his use of the phrase. “that’s what I love about you Laura.” It had escaped Remington’s lips before he realised it but not before Laura heard it, and despite herself and much to her annoyance, her heart skipped a beat at him using her name and the word ‘love’ in the same sentence, even though she was sure he meant nothing by it.

Firming her resolve to think with her head rather than her heart from now on though, she replied, “Does one of us have a reason that I’m talking to you?”

“I think I’m onto something that could change the entire complexion of the case.”

“You’re leaving town,” she stated, her irritation at him showing in her voice.

  
Remington chose to ignore her caustic remark and stated, “My car will be at your apartment in forty-five minutes. That give you enough time?”

“To do what?” Laura asked, wondering what he was playing at this time.

“Make yourself presentable. We’re having dinner,” Remington informed her as Laura saw red.

“Oh, no we’re not having di…,” she went to angrily protest but Remington didn’t give her the chance to argue as he hung up the phone.  
  
Laura slammed the phone down in response. “Oh that man!” she thought to herself as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

She then turned off the computer, stood up, and walked to the mirror. She stared at her own reflection, clicked her tongue and smirked, thinking to herself, “ Oh I can make myself presentable Mr Steele – in fact I’m going to knock your socks off!”.

Sometime later after being picked up by Fred in the limo, Laura arrived at the restaurant where Remington was waiting for her. “Mr. Steele’s table, please,” she said to the maitre’d who nodded and escorted her to Mr Steele’s table.

Remington stood up from his chair with the hint of a lopsided grin on his face as he cast an appreciative glance over the elegant, shimmering evening gown she was wearing. They stared at each other for a moment – Remington could tell by her expression she was still furious at him but regardless, he knew he had to talk to her.

Ever the gentleman, he took Laura’s coat for her. “Thank you,” Laura stated tightlipped, as she took her seat, Remington sitting back down next to her.  
  
“All right, I’m here. What startling news do you have for me?” she demanded as she glared at him. She was in no mood for his games.

“I’m paying for dinner,” Remington quipped as she sighed with exasperation.

“You said you had something to tell me about the Dillon case,” she stated impatiently.  
  


“I have,” he replied.

“Well?” Laura threw at him with a ‘this better be good’ look.

“Wallace didn’t do it,” Remington informed her confidently.

“How do you know?” Laura asked sceptically, not at all convinced.

“He’s of the old school, where there’s honour amongst thieves. He’d never rip off a fellow miscreant,” he replied.

“Then where is he?” she posed the question.

“He’ll turn up,” Remington replied in an effort to convince her and himself as he took a sip of wine.

“That’s it? Your foolproof security system lasts exactly three hours and fifteen minutes. The agency is looking at a ten million dollar lawsuit. I haven’t got a clue to where that missing file is! And you drag me halfway across town to tell me he’ll turn up?!” Laura exploded in fury as she stood up, ready to storm out.  
  
“Sit down,” Remington ordered firmly – he had something to say to her and he wasn’t letting her walk out before he had the chance to say it.

Shocked a bit by his tone and the almost pleading look in his eyes, Laura sat down, although she wasn’t entirely sure why she did.

“There’s something I want you to know, Laura. You’re good. This Dillon thing is merely a temporary setback. I don’t want you, for one moment, to lose heart or confidence, because you are a skilled, resourceful, and often brilliant investigator. I’ve had an opportunity to observe your talents first-hand, and I am terribly impressed. You’re practical, yet intuitive. You can see the large canvas without missing the small detail,” Remington said sincerely, sensing she needed to hear that more than anything now.  
  
Laura took a gulp from her glass of wine and looked decidedly uncomfortable. She hadn’t been expecting that at all and as nice as it was to hear, it had caught her completely off guard. The fact that he seemed to know instinctively what to say to make her feel better both warmed her heart and scared her at the same time she realised. Once again he was upsetting her equilibrium, and she couldn’t decide whether she loved or hated that.  
  
“Have I said something wrong?” Remington inquired with concern as he observed her reaction, worrying he’d somehow upset her again when he had been trying to do exactly the opposite.

  
“I hate it when you’re nice to me,” she confessed, uncharacteristically letting her defences down a bit.   
  
Remington smiled, hoping his efforts to make amends were working.   
  
“What do I call you when we’re alone?” she then asked, knowing his real name wasn’t Ben (as she had called him the night they had spent together) and it certainly wasn’t Remington.

As if reading her mind though he replied, “Well, I’m quite used to the name that you came up with”.

“It’s from a typewriter and a football team,” Laura admitted drolly.

“Then pick one. I’ve probably used it,” he replied with a grin, thinking to himself how true that was. It hadn’t really bothered him that much in the past – he’d learnt to get used to not having a name to call his own. So instead he just chose one that took his fancy and suited his current situation or the ‘role’ he was playing, and then when he grew tired of it, or it had outlived its purpose he simply adopted another one. But over the past couple of months, since adopting yet another name, it had started to play on his mind more – perhaps because Laura seemed so hung up on finding out what his real name was. More than once he’d been tempted to say to her, “Well once you find out what it is, let me know will you.”  
  
Despite her best intentions to stay mad at him, Laura found herself chuckling and relaxing a bit, his quick wit disarming her like always. “You know, Murphy thinks you’re an international swindler, or at the very least, an ax murderer,” she told him, a dimpled grin crossing her face as he grinned in return.

  
Claude, the maitre’d then came up to the table and said, “Excusez-moi, Miss Holt. Telephone for you in the foyer, please.”

Laura thanked him then got up from her seat and as Remington got up from his seat to let her out and she stepped past him , she gave him a look and a small smile that gave him hope that all was not lost.  
  
“Would you permit me an observation, Mr. Steele?” Claude asked as they both watched Laura head to the foyer.

“Certainly, Claude,” Remington replied.  
  


“This young lady is by far the finest of a staggering array,” Claude stated.

“You have exquisite taste, Claude,” Remington agreed with a smile.

“Uh, does monsieur intend to bestow a nameplate on her too?” Claude asked.

“Possibly,” Remington replied, thinking how ironic that would be – to give Laura a keepsake of the name she had given him.

“They’re solid brass, you know, and I’m afraid your largesse is beginning to run into big bucks,” Claude reminded him.  
  
“Well, if I do, it could very well be the last one I dispense,” Remington stated thoughtfully, his admission surprising himself as much as it did Claude, his eyes never leaving Laura as she headed back to the table.  
  
Laura came back to the table, her expression serious as she announced, “Wallace turned up.” Remington suddenly felt a knot forming in his stomach and a feeling of dread come over him, suspecting his fears as to his friend’s whereabouts were about to be confirmed..


	7. Chapter 7

Once they got to the morgue, Remington and Laura watched the medical examiner pull out the corpse of Wallace Immel, Remington fighting a battle within himself to keep his emotions in check.  
  
“Where did they find him?” Laura asked, trying to get any clue as to how he had died.

“Where they find most of them - Main Street,” the examiner replied in a bored tone as he pulled the sheet off that was covering Wallace’s face. A muscle worked in Remington’s cheek as he looked at his friend’s body, Laura feeling him tense next to her.  
  
“Needle still in his arm, five grand in his sock. He must have been celebrating his good fortune,” the examiner continued.

“He wasn’t an addict.” Remington finally spoke as he took a closer look at Wallace’s body. Someone was trying to make it look like he’d overdosed but he suspected foul play, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d found out who was responsible and brought them to justice – he owed Wallace that much he figured.  
  
“Take a look at those arms. You could run the Southern Pacific on those tracks,” the examiner argued

“They’re old, at least three years,” Remington replied, glaring at the examiner as he did so.

“When is the autopsy?” Laura asked.

The examiner looked at her a little incredulously. “Ever heard of proposition thirteen? We don’t have the budget to cut up every junkie that pigs out on smack,” he replied dismissively as he pushed the body back into the freezer then added, “You want an autopsy? You get this stiff to your own pathologist.”

Upon hearing the examiner’s callous response, something in Remington snapped. His anger at the injustice of it all as well as his guilt at getting Wallace involved in the first place boiled over. Wallace didn’t deserve this - he was a good guy who had finally got his life on track and was helping others, and for this sanctimonious bugger to dismiss him as just another two bit junkie and to refer to him as a ‘stiff’ rather than a human being, was the thing that finally caused his control to crumble.

He suddenly found himself letting out that side of him that he had learnt to keep hidden over the years. It still made an appearance from time to time, usually when his emotions overwhelmed him, as was the case now. It was the side of him that belonged to a brash street kid fighting for his very survival on the harsh streets of Brixton, or a young man taking on all comers in an effort to make a few dollars on a street corner in Brazil. It was not however, the side of himself that belonged to the suave, sophisticated, gentleman detective role he was now playing, and he worried a bit at how Laura was going to react to it, but he couldn’t help it.

He roughly grabbed the medical examiner by his lab coat, and slammed him against the wall, a frown clouding his handsome features and his jaw clenched in anger.  
  
“That stiff…once made twenty-seven straight passes in a crap game. He had a daughter he put through college. He liked to fish off King’s Point, and he read “The Wizard of Id”. That stiff…was my friend,” he threw at him furiously, his angrily pointed finger jabbing at the examiner. If Laura wasn’t there he would have decked the guy, but regaining some small semblance of control he let him go then stormed out.  
  
Laura watched him as he went, rather taken aback by his outburst – she had never seen that side of him before. The raw emotion and vulnerability he had displayed gave her a greater insight into the man with the 'blue eyes and mysterious past' and what he was made of. Underneath the suave charm and expensive suits, lay the heart of a man who was a loyal friend, who was grieving a great loss and whose emotions had temporarily overwhelmed him. But despite his anger and grief he had managed to get himself under control and walk away.

She muttered a hurried apology to the examiner who was considerably shaken up (although part of her felt he deserved it after the way he had spoken about Wallace) and thanked him for his time, then she dashed out the door after Mr Steele. She found him in the back of the limo, sitting there with his eyes closed as he tried to deal with all he was feeling. She got in next to him and watched him for a moment or two, not sure if she should let him be or try to talk to him.

She finally decided on the latter as she said, much to his surprise, “Harry.”

At that Remington opened his eyes, but still said nothing. He didn’t know what to say - expressing his emotions in words had never been his strong point. He felt ashamed at his outburst and losing control like that, but his grief and guilt and rage were so raw that he hadn’t been able to stop himself.  
  
“Harry. Tonight, you look like a Harry,” Laura continued with a smile as Remington exhaled sharply, thinking to himself, “She doesn’t know how right she is.”

Harry was one of the names he had felt most comfortable with in his ‘former life.’ He hadn’t liked it at first when Daniel had started calling him that, but it had grown on him – it was an ‘everyday man’ sort of name, common not flashy, like some of his other aliases. Including the one he was currently using, he thought a little wryly to himself. And it suited someone who made his living on the wrong side of the tracks, and who lived from day to day with nothing but his wits and his fists to keep him alive. He recalled in his late teens he had been quite chuffed to use the name when Clint Eastwood’s ‘Dirty Harry’ ( _Warner Bros, 1971_ ) had first come out, hoping it would add to his ‘tough guy’ persona.

But now he had a new name and as he had said earlier that night he had grown quite accustomed to it. A name given to him by the woman sitting next to him. Who was still there by his side, despite him losing control in front of her and despite his grand plan failing and jeopardizing all she had worked so hard to achieve. She was here by his side and he found that realisation very comforting.  
  
“He didn’t want to do this job. I soaped him into it,” he muttered, his guilt overwhelming him again.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Laura replied gently.

“Someone planted the money on him to make it appear he sold the papers then killed him. I’m going to find that someone,’” Remington stated adamantly with a determined set to his jaw.  
  
Laura placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling an overwhelming need to comfort him and take away his pain. He looked at her then put his hand over hers, grateful for her support.  
  
“We’ll do it together,’ she reassured him with a smile as he nodded in appreciation.  
  
*********************************************

Laura then asked Fred to drive them to the Lost & Found Mission, where she hoped to glean some information or find some clues as to how Wallace had met his demise.  
  
“What are we doing here?” Remington asked.

“The minute anything happens down here, everybody knows it. Let’s see what they know about Wallace’s death” Laura replied.

“Ah, see - I told you,” he stated as they got out of the car.

“What?” Laura asked.

“You’re good,” Remington informed her with a smile which she returned. She then pointed to a group of vagrant men who were huddled around a burning garbage can, trying to stay warm. “Might as well start with them,” she suggested as Remington nodded in agreement.  
  
He walked over to the men and standing next to them round the garbage can asked,”How’s it goin’?”

The scene took him back to his younger years, spent on the streets of Dublin then London, nowhere to call home and trying to keep warm and stay out of trouble’s way. The start of his ‘Harry years’ he thought ruefully to himself.

He then forced himself out of his nostalgia to focus on the job at hand – getting to the bottom of Wallace’s murder. “Pity about Wallace. Wallace, the fella who ran the mission. Dead, you know,” he stated in an effort to make conversation and see if these blokes had seen or heard anything but the only response he got was one of the homeless men offering him a bottle of alcohol. Not wanting to appear ungrateful, he grabbed the bottle and took a swig. As he did so he looked around and spied a Porsche parked a bit further up the alleyway, which certainly looked out of place in this part of town. He went and checked out the car, and took a mental note of the licence number as he felt his pockets for a pen or pencil to jot it down.  
  
Meanwhile Laura made her way inside the Lost & Found Mission through the back door, accidentally waking a homeless person sleeping just inside the door. “Excuse me,” she apologised as the man moaned a little but didn’t wake.  
  
She moved on a bit further, taking care as the only lighting came from outside. She then heard a clatter inside a room up ahead. “Hello?” she said cautiously as she knocked on the door then entered the room.  
  
As she stepped inside a man came up behind her, and attempted to strangle her with a rope. Laura gasped and desperately struggled to break free.

Meanwhile Remington was still outside, trying to get his pen to work. He then noticed the back door of the mission was ajar, so hoping to find another pen or pencil he went inside. As he did so he suddenly spied the shadows of two people struggling inside a room. He ran to the room, and to his horror found a man trying to choke Laura. He roughly pulled her assailant away from her, struggling to keep a hold of him but the other man managed to lay a punch on him before running away.

Laura coughed as she tried to catch her breath and Remington rushed to her side, asking worriedly. ”Laura, are you all right? Are you okay?”  
  
Meanwhile the unknown man reached his Porsche and jumping in, started the engine.  
  
“Car!” Laura gasped as she and Remington heard the engine roar to life.  
  
Remington ran outside, desperately yelling to Fred to block the alley with the limo so the man couldn’t escape. Fred started the limo, and honked at the vagrants who had gathered around to clean it, hoping to make a quick buck, but to no avail. He couldn’t move the car as they hovered over it so Remington tried to run after the Porsche but the driver gunned the engine and made his escape. Laura then made her way to the limo, she and Remington watching as the man sped off.  
  
Laura coughed a bit then asked, “Did you get the licence number?”  
  
Remington pointed to his head. ”Right here.”

“How did you know I was in trouble?” she then asked gratefully.

“Actually, I was looking for a pencil,” Remington admitted, the two of them wondering where to focus their investigation next.


	8. Chapter 8

After the night they’d both had neither Remington or Laura were overly keen to spend the night alone, although they were both a bit reluctant to admit it. “Fred – drop us off at my apartment would you? There’s a good man,” Remington stated as they got back into the limo. In reply to Laura’s surprised look he said with concern, “You’ve just almost been choked to death Laura – if you think I’m leaving you alone tonight you’d better think again.”

Whilst Laura appreciated his concern, she also didn’t entirely trust herself to be alone with him in his apartment, especially while the two of them were feeling particularly vulnerable. “I’m fine,” she argued in an attempt to convince him.

“Well you may be but I’m not,” Remington confessed, still struggling to come to terms with Wallace’s untimely death, the almost pleading, devastated look in his eyes pulling straight at Laura’s heartstrings.

“Okay then,” she agreed with a nod, her voice tender as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

When they got to the apartment, Remington walked in inside, pulling off his coat and suit jacket and loosening his tie as he did so. He headed for his liquor cabinet to pour himself a stiff drink, offering Laura one as he did so. To his surprise somewhat she accepted a whiskey on the rocks. As she took it from him she thanked him then raised it saying, “To Wallace.” A half smile crossed Remington’s face at her gesture, ‘”To Wallace” he echoed the toast as they both drank.

He sat down on the lounge and motioned for her to do the same. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed, shaking his head. “He didn’t deserve this Laura – he was a good guy.” She nodded silently, not really knowing what to say. She hesitated for a moment then said gently in an effort to console him, “I’m sorry - I know he meant a lot to you. It’s probably some small comfort at the moment, but try and hold onto those good memories of the time you spent together,” thinking to herself how she had coped by doing that when she had lost people she was close to, whether through death, such as her beloved grandmother, or other circumstances, such as was the case with her father.

Remington nodded knowing she was right, the hint of a lopsided grin crossing his face as he thought back over some of the good times he and Wallace had shared. “How did you two meet?” she asked, sensing he needed to talk and also because of her own curiosity.

Remington’s grin got a bit broader as a wry chuckle escaped his lips. “Attempting to steal the same set of jewels,” he confessed. “We literally bumped into each other and then decided we should pool our resources and split the profits. He was one of the most skilled thieves I’d ever met – taught me a lot actually.”

Laura listened intently, intrigued by his story. It was the first time he had ever really given her any insights into his past. “Was that here in the U.S. or somewhere else?” she asked, keen to learn more. “It was in London actually – Wallace got around a bit in his younger years. But we kept in touch – helped each other out on jobs from time to time and had a lot of fun along the way. He had a brilliant sense of humour and boy was he a canny gambler – I’ll never forget that craps game where he made twenty seven straight passes. Oh we sure celebrated that night,” Remington reminisced with a nostalgic smile,

“You mentioned before he had a daughter?” Laura inquired as Remington nodded. “Yes she was the main reason he got himself sorted out and turned his back on his former life. He unfortunately made some bad choices earlier on in the game - he got into the booze and drugs a bit too much and before he knew it he was hooked. His wife could only take so much so she ended up leaving him and taking Chelsea, his daughter, with her. That really shook him up I think so he worked bloody hard to get himself clean - it took him a while but he did it. And then he found his true calling in life I guess when he found his faith. But in all that time he had never shirked his responsibilities – he sent money to his ex-wife all the time for his daughter’s education, and slowly he began to rebuild his relationship with Chelsea and really turn his life around.”

Remington then focused his gaze on the ground for a moment or two.”I always admired that about him – how he found the courage to turn his life around and choose a different path for someone he loved,” he confessed as he looked up, his eyes meeting Laura’s.

She found herself melting under his intense gaze. She didn’t know what to say – was he saying he felt the same way about someone… about her? Remington was as surprised at his (albeit indirect) admission as Laura was, but he put it down to the vulnerable, emotional state he was in. When she didn’t immediately respond, he felt a little awkward and put on a grin as a cover for his true feelings, as he took another swig of whiskey.

Seeing his vulnerability Laura couldn’t help herself – she leant over and brushed his lips with a kiss. In response he took her face in his hands and kissed her back, tentatively at first but quickly turning into something more. Their mutual desire that they had tried to hold back, momentarily roared to life again, both of them remembering the night of passion that they had shared.

As Remington pulled Laura closer to him, he felt an almost overwhelming need for her. He needed her to comfort him and take away his pain – to hold him in her arms and reassure him it was going to be okay. And that scared him - he had never allowed himself to need someone like that before. He had learnt from a very young age that to depend on people, to need them – was to set yourself up for heartbreak and disappointment.

Laura also found her thoughts following the same lines – she wanted to do whatever she could to soothe his pain and be there for him. She had glimpsed another part of him tonight – a raw vulnerability that touched her very soul, that she suspected he had let very few people see during his life. And she knew if she was not careful she could very easily find herself falling for him and that in turn scared her as well.

With those thoughts in mind the two of them suddenly found their respective fears getting the better of them. With great reluctance they both pulled away from each other, knowing if they didn’t their bodies would betray them. It was different now than when they had their one night stand when they first met – back then they had been strangers with nothing to lose, now they had got to know and understand each other more. Now there was a lot more at stake, both personally and professionally and they both knew it.

“I really should get going..,” Laura murmured as she ran a hand through her hair in an effort to calm herself down and think with a clear head, which she was finding extremely hard to do when he was looking at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead and his breathing as fast as hers was. “That is unless you need me to stay,” she offered with a smile.

Meanwhile a war was going on between Remington’s brain and his body – Laura looked damn near irresistible with her hair mussed and her cheeks flushed and that dimpled smile on her face, but he knew it wasn’t the right time for them to ‘trip the light fantastic’ again. He didn’t want her to regret it and he didn’t want her to sleep with him again just because she felt sorry for him.

He took one of her hands in his and tenderly rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. ”Part of me wants nothing more than to have you stay but I think we both know what will happen if you do,” he admitted with a rueful grin as Laura nodded with a small grin herself. “Yes I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “And even though one of my main objectives since we shared that incredible night has been to convince you to repeat the experience, and I know I’m probably going to kick myself for saying this but.. I don’t think now is the right time. Having said that, I do appreciate you being here for me Laura – it means a lot,” he continued sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” Laura replied as she squeezed his hand. “I’ll call Fred to come pick you up,” he then said as he got up, knowing if he stayed in close proximity to her for too much longer he was more than likely to change his mind.  
  


When Fred called not long after to say he was waiting downstairs for her, Remington walked Laura out to the elevator. “You sure you’ll be alright?” she asked with concern as he nodded and smiled. “It’ll take a little time but I’ll be okay. Wallace was the kind of guy who wouldn’t want people to be wallowing in misery over him.”

“We’re going to find his killer okay? I promise you,” Laura then said adamantly. “With you on the case Laura I have no doubt we will,” he replied confidently, his smile warming her heart. He then planted a kiss on her cheek and hugged her to him briefly. “You take care okay? I’ll see you in the morning then,” Laura bade him farewell as the elevator doors opened. Remington nodded, wondering not for the first time, what stroke of good fortune had brought her into his life. “Indeed you will Miss Holt, indeed you will,” he quipped with a lopsided grin before she got into the elevator and disappeared from his view.

**********************************************************************************

Remington was convinced Jim Meecham was responsible for stealing the research and hence killing Wallace to cover his tracks Although Laura felt Rodger Dillon himself might also be a likely suspect, she agreed to go along with his plan to firstly investigate Meecham, knowing how important it was to him to find out who had murdered his friend Wallace and bring them to justice.

The next morning Laura therefore arranged to meet Meecham in the lobby of the hotel where he was staying whilst he was in LA, telling him she wanted to update him on their investigation, the plan being to get him out of his room so Remington could search it for clues. They put their plan together on the way to the hotel, both of them focusing on the case and neither mentioning the night before. In the cold light of day, feelings were sometimes a bit harder to deal with they both found, so they figured they’d try to focus on the business at hand instead, at least for the time being.

Remington also took a seat in the lobby a little further away from Laura’s, hiding his face behind a copy of GQ magazine.

Upon spying Meecham approaching, Laura caught Remington’s eye and subtly pointed towards him. Taking his cue he quickly left before Meecham saw him and headed towards Meecham’s hotel room. Once he reached the room he knelt down in front of the door to examine the combination lock. Putting his ear to it he had just starting to listen to the tumblers so he could pick the lock, when an elderly couple came out of another room. Thinking quickly, he put on a smile and slowly rose to his feet, saying through the door, "No, no. It's all right. I'll wait for you here." He smiled at the couple as they passed him and commented in an effort to avoid suspicion, "Takes her forever to get dressed."

Once they were gone he went back to the door and had it opened in no time. He entered the room and started searching for anything incriminating. It didn’t take him long to find a briefcase hidden under the bed. He tried for a moment to open the combination locks, but in the interests of time decided to slip them open with a letter opener he found instead. Finding a bunch of plans inside he pored over them, wondering what on earth ‘old Meech’ was up to.

Meanwhile Laura tried to keep Meecham occupied long enough to give Remington a chance to go through his room. "Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Meecham," she said, politely shaking his hand but he was in no mood for polite conversation. "This better be good, Miss Holt,” he replied expectantly. He was angry enough about the apparent incompetence of the Remington Steele detective agency, let alone Steele leaving this young girl to fight his battles for him.

"Without the research, all you got's a dead thief,” Meecham said dismissively as he stood to leave, not wanting to waste any more time on this.

"Or a murder victim," Laura pointed out which got his attention as he sat back down. "We're waiting for the autopsy report,” she informed him.  
  
"Six-two and even, Dillon's the one stealing our research,” Meecham stated.

"Why do you say that?" Laura asked curiously, thinking it odd that Dillon would steal research from his own company.

"Only reason I got my cleats into that company is because he ran it into the ground. He's a rookie, with a penchant for polo ponies, black jack tables and little pieces of fluff who collect expensive jewelry."

Meecham then stood, saying somewhat sarcastically, “Been nice talkin' to you, Laura."

Laura also rose trying to delay him further from heading to his room., "Wait - we haven't finished yet."

Meecham grinned at her. "I got my lawyer coming by with some papers in my suit against your agency." He then walked off leaving Laura in a panic and hoping Mr Steele was out of the room already. As she spied the lobby phone an idea sprung into her head.

Remington was still looking at the plans when the telephone in Meecham’s room rang. He automatically went to pick it up then stopped himself at the last minute.

Meanwhile Laura was on the other end on the lobby phone and whispered, "Answer the phone,", hoping he would pick it up so she could warn him Meecham was on his way up.

Just in the nick of time Remington heard someone at the door and quickly closing the briefcase he hid behind the door as Meecham flung it open and rushed inside to answer the phone. While Meecham was distracted by the phone, Remington took the chance to slip out, the stealthy skills he had acquired in his ‘former life’ coming in very handy.  
  
"Hello?" Meecham said as he picked up the phone.

Laura frowned upon hearing Meecham’s voice then deepening her voice to disguise it replied "Who's this?"

"Well, who's this?" Meecham demanded as Laura quickly hung up the phone, hoping Remington had got out of there in time.  
  


********************************************

  
After leaving the hotel Remington and Laura headed back to the agency.  
  
“Good afternoon, Ms. Wolfe,” Remington greeted Bernice in his usual fashion, much to her annoyance.

“You’re getting to be a regular fixture around here,” she replied, her displeasure at that fact showing on her face.

“Any word on that license plate?” Laura asked her.

“They’re still running it through the D.M.V. computer, but Murphy’s on the phone with the pathologist,” she replied as Laura and Remington both walked into Murphy’s office, not before Bernice flashed ‘Mr Steele’ an annoyed look.  
  
Murphy then hung up the phone saying with a good deal of surprise as he looked at Steele, “Well, what do you know? He was right,’ even though he hated to admit it.  
  
Remington looked at Laura shrugging his shoulders a little in surprise himself as a satisfied smile crossed his face. Finally, he thought to himself, I’ve got something right.  
  
“Wallace didn’t O.D. on junk. He was literally relaxed to death,” Murphy continued as he handed Laura the piece of paper he’d just written on during his phone call. “Injected with a form of orphenadrine citrate, a muscle relaxant, the kind used on horses.”

“Dillon’s into polo..” Laura thought aloud, trying to connect the clues as she and Murphy conferred, momentarily ignoring Remington.

“There are stables at the back of the house,” Murphy nodded in agreement.

“Anything else?” Laura asked Murphy about the autopsy report.

“They’re going over the contents of Wallace’s stomach now. That should be done by the end of the day,” he informed her.

“Aha! Not only do we know how and where the murder took place, but who committed it,” Remington then announced as both Laura and Murphy looked at him.

“Oh yeah?” Murphy asked dubiously, thinking to himself that Steele was just posing in front of Laura again, trying to play detective.

“We do?” Laura also asked with surprise, wondering if she’d missed something obvious.

“Absolutely. Meecham,” Remington replied confidently. “His briefcase is bulging with plans to tear down Dillon Electronics, and build an industrial park, not a bad incentive to bankrupt a company by stealing its own research.”

“Don’t forget Rodger Dillon,” Laura pointed out.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Remington interjected with an excited grin.

Laura however kept on with her line of thinking. “According to Meecham, he needed a lot of cash to float his lifestyle.”

“Remember Mrs. Dillon, insisting everything be moved to the house that made it a helluva lot easier to steal,” Murphy added, wondering if perhaps Dillon and his mother were in on it together.

“My money’s on Meecham. Let’s nab him,” Remington argued as he strode into ‘his’ office.  
  
Laura looked at Murphy and mouthed “Let’s nab him?” as Murphy grimaced and said, “I told you this was a mistake.”

Remington then re-emerged from of his office. Laura noticed he had changed out of the leather jacket he had worn to the hotel and now had a sweater tied around his shoulders for some reason.

"We need a little thing called evidence,” Laura reminded him. “Which means that somebody is going to have to get back into that house."

"Leave everything to me," Remington declared as he headed out the door. Murphy rose to his feet stating wryly to Laura "That is a lot more frightening than "Let's nab him'."

Laura rolled her eyes in reply then followed Remington out the door, wondering what on earth he was up to now.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

The following day, Remington arranged to play polo against Jim Meecham, and Rodger Dillon, giving Laura the chance to search Dillon’s stables for clues.  
  
“Hope you got major medical,”Meecham threatened Remington as he walked past him.

“Now, Meech, polo is a contest where gentlemen exhibit the finest qualities of horsemanship and fair play,” Remington replied in an attempt to antagonize Meecham.

“Blow it out your ear,” Meecham snapped with a frown.

“Meecham,” Dillon implored him, wishing he would calm down.  
  
Remington put on his helmet as Laura arrived with his horse in tow. “I didn’t know you played polo,” she stated as she came up to him, thinking there was so much about him she didn’t know. Where on earth had he learnt to play polo? she wondered.

She couldn’t help admiring how good he looked in his polo outfit (‘Okay what outfit doesn’t he look good in?’ she thought a little wryly to himself), the snug fit of his polo pants causing her thoughts to inevitably stray to the night they had spent together. A night they could have easily repeated the other night she realised, wondering not for the first time if she’d made the right choice when she decided to leave his apartment rather than stay with him.

Remington meanwhile was gratefully thinking how Daniel’s insistence he learn how to play polo, so he could easily mix with (and ultimately con) the wealthy folk who played and followed the game, was coming in handy today. He remembered when Daniel had first suggested it to his younger, still ‘rough around the edges’ self and his less than enthusiastic reaction. “Not bloody likely Daniel! I’m not getting up on that effin’ horse let alone prance around in that stupid looking outfit!”. But somehow Daniel in his inimitable way had managed to persuade him to give it a go. And when he found it wasn’t half as bad as he thought it would be and that he was actually rather good at it, he’d kept at it, getting a hit in from time to time. As Daniel had hoped, it did also help him ingratiate himself into certain circles which proved to be quite profitable.

“Charles and I used to have a go at it whenever I was in London,” he informed Laura with a grin as he climbed onto the horse.

“Charles?” Laura repeated with surprise, Surely he couldn’t be talking about Prince Charles? she thought to herself.

“Now that he’s married, we don’t play as often as we’d like to,” he quipped as Laura handed him his mallet.  
  
“Thank you. Happy snooping,” he thanked her with a twinkle in his eye as he rode off.  
  
Hannah Dillon then walked up to Laura and remarked with admiration, “I like your boss. He has the same kind of flair Packy had. A little reckless maybe, but lots of sauce.”

“Why do you say that?” Laura asked curiously.

“Rodger’s a world-class player,” Hannah informed her.

“Well, it’s only a game,” Laura stated.

“Not for twenty-five thousand bucks it ain’t,” Mrs Dillon replied.

“Twenty-five thousand bucks?!” Laura asked incredulously. What on earth has he done now? she thought furiously.

“That’s what he bet Rodger and Meecham.”

“Twenty-five thousand?” Laura repeated, not believing her ears.

“Each,” Mrs Dillon added as Laura whimpered. Where one earth was he going to get $50,000 from if he lost?? She hated to think.  
  


As the polo match got underway, Laura took advantage of everyone’s attention being on it to slip unseen into the stables. She entered the storage room and after looking around for a bit discovered a bottle of Orphenadrine with Rodger Dillon’s name on it. As she put it in her bag she also noticed a tin can nearby, in which she found residue of something and a syringe. She took a handful of the residue and smelt it, immediately recognizing the smell. She bagged the residue and the syringe as well then quickly left the stables before she was noticed. As she did so she spied a Porsche parked outside, recognizing it as the same one that was parked in the alley outside the Lost and Found Mission the other night.

She then saw the man who owned the Porsche – the same man who had attacked her at the Mission the other night, with an Asian man. The two men walked up to the fence around the polo field and Laura observed Hannah Dillon nodding an acknowledgment to them but with a frown on her face.

"Friends of yours?" Laura asked her as she came up to her.

"Roger's new partners," Hannah informed her.

"In the electronics company?" Laura inquired.

"No. Some joint venture."

"You don't sound too pleased about it," Laura observed.

"Rodger calls the shots now," Hannah stated with a shrug which Laura found very interesting.

Meanwhile the match was starting to get quite rough. Jim Meecham rode fast towards the ball then struck it in the direction of Mr Steele. Remington managed to dodge it as he flashed a dirty look at Meecham.

“Sorry, Steele. Didn’t mean to miss ya,” Meecham sneered as the match continued.  
  
At one point, Remington and Meecham were fighting for the ball, their horses side by side. Rodger Dillon decided to ride his horse directly at Steele. However Remington spied him charging towards them and guessing what he was up to, moved away from his path in the nick of time. Dillon instead accidentally hit Meecham’s horse, throwing Meecham to the ground. Dillon immediately dismounted and ran over to Meecham who groaned in pain and struggled to get up.  
  
“Shall we count this as a time-out, gentlemen?” Remington asked cockily as he rode off, both Meecham and Dillon glaring at him.


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, Laura and Remington were at his apartment, putting the finishing touches on the last part of their plan to catch the culprit.

“I’m not even going to ask if you know what you’re doing,” Laura commented as she watched Remington placing name cards on the dining table in preparation for the dinner party they were hosting that evening. She couldn’t help admiring how handsome he looked in his formal attire.  
  
“I know precisely what I’m doing. William Powell did exactly the same thing in The Thin Man - invited all the suspects to a dinner party, reconstructed the crime and exposed the murderer,” Remington replied as Laura helped him put on his jacket and smoothed his lapels, not being able to resist running her hands over his shoulders a little as she did so.  
  
“And may I say, you make a splendid Myrna Loy”, he complimented her with a twinkle in his blue eyes, admiring the flattering white gown she was dressed in. She looked absolutely stunning and he could barely keep his eyes off her.

“Don’t be so cocky. You’re just lucky Dillon and Meecham had to forfeit the match. Where did you think you’d get fifty-thousand dollars if you’d lost?” Laura posed the question.  
  
The doorbell then rang as Remington replied with a confident grin, “I had no intention of losing”.  
  
Remington opened the door to find, much to his annoyance, a casually dressed Murphy standing there. Just when he was enjoying a few moments of alone time with Laura, Michaels shows up again like a perennial third wheel, he thought to himself. He knew the other man had a thing for Laura – that had been obvious from the start, but from what he could tell, or at least hoped, Laura only thought of Murphy as a friend. He had to admit he did enjoy rubbing Murphy’s nose in his and Laura’s mutual attraction a little bit, although given different circumstances he suspected they could actually be friends. He knew Murphy was a hardworking, talented detective and generally an all round decent sort of chap, despite the fact Murphy didn’t trust him and often seemed to take delight in bagging him out to Laura.

But he knew he had Laura’s best interests at heart – after all he had helped her set up her agency and make it a success while keeping the secret of their fictional ‘boss’. What he didn’t agree with Murphy on though was what was in Laura’s best interests in the romantic sense. Murphy, he presumed, thought Laura needed someone like him – dependable, responsible, safe. Or in Remington’s view – boring. He on the other hand, suspected that Laura actually needed a lot more than that from a man – she’d told him herself that she loved excitement and adventure, and she’d more than ably demonstrated that during the night they had spent together. She had let him catch a glimpse of another side of her that night – an uninhibited, passionate woman who liked to take chances and throw caution to the wind on occasion. And in Remington’s opinion, he was the right match for her in that regard, rather than ‘good ole Murphy.’

As if reading his mind. Murphy dismissively handed his jacket to Steele, then ignoring him, walked straight over to Laura, saying, “The completed autopsy report,” as he handed her a file. “Take a peek at page five,” he instructed her.  
  
Barely hiding his annoyance, Remington closed the door and walked over to them, saying to Murphy as he cast a disapproving eye over his casual attire, “Couldn’t you have worn something slightly more appropriate?”

Murphy looked at his rival for Laura’s affections, decked out in his tux, and bit back the retort he really wanted to give him, which was something along the lines of where he could shove his tux. Murphy had deliberately not worn one for two reasons – firstly to openly defy Steele’s request that they all dress formally for the evening and therefore annoy the hell out of him, and secondly to not try to compete with Steele (or whatever the hell his real name was) in his game. He knew he didn’t possess the smarmy charm Steele had or the posh English accent, and he certainly didn’t share his love of expensive suits. But to Murphy, all that was superficial things, and he lived in the hope that by just being himself he could one day make Laura see him as more than a friend and business partner. He wasn’t sure but he thought he’d perhaps been making some progress in that regard, until this con-man had entered their lives and everything had changed. Murphy had, albeit reluctantly, gone along with Laura’s idea to have him adopt the role of Remington Steele on a permanent basis but now this joker was starting to act like he thought he was actually a detective which really got under Murphy’s skin.

With that thought in mind he threw back at Steele, “No, I didn’t have time to change,” making his inference clear – some of us are actually doing work rather than just pretending to be detectives.   
  
Laura finished reading the file then said “Okay, let’s get the show on the road.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re finally into the spirit of the evening”, Remington retorted, thinking to himself as he looked at Murphy, well at least someone is.

***************************************************  
  
Later on in the evening, Remington, Laura, Murphy, Rodger & Hannah Dillon and Jim Meecham were at the dinner table chatting over dinner when Remington suddenly rose from his chair and cleared his throat.  
  
“To our guests,” he raised his glass. “May the conversation be as interesting as the company”.  
  
While they were eating, Remington turned the conversation to the murder of his friend Wallace Immel. “Wallace obviously discovered the killer removing the research from the library. There was a fierce struggle. The killer hit Wallace repeatedly,” he put forth his supposition.

“What Mr. Steele means is that it could have happened that way, but didn’t since the autopsy found no bruises or abrasions on Wallace’s body,” Laura corrected him.

“Well, whatever. The point is the killer dragged…” Remington continued.

“Lured,” Laura put in.

“Wallace to the stable where he was injected with a massive overdose of muscle relaxant.”

“Same type found in this vial,” Laura pulled out the bottle of Orphenadrine. “Using a needle exactly like this one,” she added as she showed them the syringe. “Both of which were found in your stable, Mr. Dillon.”  
  
Jim Meecham smiled, silently laughing and looked at the stunned Rodger Dillon, thinking he was finally going to get his comeuppance.  
  
“Then the killer transported Wallace’s unconscious body to Main Street hoping it would appear that he died of a drug overdose.” Remington continued.  
  
“Your food is wonderful, but…” Rodger laughed, “Your theory’s absurd. None of us has a reason to steal from ourselves.”

“Wrong,” Remington refuted his statement. “One of you had the strongest possible reason. Money. Enormous amounts of the stuff, isn’t that right Meecham?”   
  
The grin on Jim Meecham’s face suddenly disappeared to be replaced by a sour expression.  
  
“And of course, as you pointed out, Mr. Steele, Rodger Dillon had an equally strong motive,” Laura added.

“I don’t remember pointing that out,” Remington replied as a frown furrowed his brow, wondering where she was going with this, as his money was still on Meecham being the guilty party.

“Of course you do, when you learned of his association with those gentlemen at the polo match,” Laura stated as Remington thought to himself, ‘What gentlemen?’

“Those gentlemen have nothing to do with Dillon Electronics,” Rodger Dillon replied, starting to get a bit nervous.

“Why was one of them searching Wallace’s room?” Laura challenged him as she glanced at Murphy.

Taking his cue, Murphy excused himself and got up from his chair and headed into the kitchen.  
  
“Tell me, Meecham, when Dillon Electronics went under did you plan to buy up the rest of the company?” Remington asked, trying to get the focus back onto who he thought was the most obvious suspect.

“Damn right,” Meecham replied as Dillon glared at him. “You’ll never get your hands on my company, Meecham,” he replied angrily.

“It’s only a matter of time till you’ll have to punt, Dillon. Then I’m gonna run with the ball,” Meecham retorted.  
  
Murphy then returned from the kitchen bringing with him a cup of tea which he put down in front of Hannah saying, “Try this, Mrs. Dillon.”

“How’s the tea, Mrs. Dillon?” Laura asked seemingly innocently, after Mrs Dillon took a sip.

“Tastes like the kind I drink,” Hannah replied with some surprise.

“It is the kind you drink,” Laura confirmed.

“I didn’t know anyone else had that recipe,” Hannah stated, starting to get a little worried.

“Ladies, could we shelve the tea talk and get back to business?” Remington stated with more than a hint of irritation as it was distracting him from his line of questioning and finally revealing the murderer.   
  
He then turned again to Meecham. “You wanted that land for an industrial park, didn’t you?”

“You got it,” Meecham confirmed.

“Then you admit it,” Remington stated triumphantly, thinking he finally had him.

“I admit I was gonna build an industrial park, but then you already knew that, didn’t you, Steele?” Meecham threw at him.  
  
Meanwhile Hannah Dillon turned to Laura and asked in reference to the tea, “Where did you get the recipe?”  
  
“You brewed Wallace a cup..,” Laura stated in an accusing tone.  
  
Meecham continued to argue with Mr Steele, making an accusation of his own. “’Cause you went through my hotel room. And that’s called breaking and entering!”

Laura then turned to Hannah Dillon and stated, “Right before you killed him!”  
  
In response, Hannah Dillon stood up, and pulled out a gun from her purse. Meanwhile, Meecham also angrily got up from his chair - he'd had enough of Steele's accusations.  
  
“Sit down!” Remington ordered him as he also stood up.  
  
Spying the gun, Murphy tried to take it from Hannah Dillon just as an angry Remington threw a punch at Meecham, knocking him to the ground. The gun suddenly went off, missing Meecham by an inch as Laura shrieked.  
  
“Easy, Mrs. Dillon,” Murphy said firmly as he managed to get the gun from her and held her hands tightly behind her back.   
  
“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” Meecham demanded in shock as he peeked over the top of the table in fear after his close call.  
  
Hannah Dillon turned to her son. “You little wimp! Tell them what business your new partners are in!” she snapped.

“For God’s sake mother, shut up!” Rodger pleaded with her, suddenly looking very afraid.

“They peddle classified American technology to the highest bidder. Do you think I was gonna let you sell them our discoveries just to keep you in more toys? I’d rather see the company go under than have it run by a traitor,” his mother retorted in disgust.

“Mother, you’re gonna get us both hung!” Rodger despaired.  
  
Hannah then turned to a stunned Mr Steele. “I didn’t want to hurt that poor man, but he just couldn’t understand what I was trying to do.”  
  
Jim Meecham then stood up, and turned to Mr Steele with a smile, his previous anger at him forgotten. “You saved my life, Steele. And I thought you were gonna accuse me of the murder,” he stated gratefully.

“You? Don’t be absurd,” Remington scoffed in an attempt to save face.  
  
Meecham then put an arm across Mr Steele’s shoulders in a gesture of appreciation. “Awful quick thinkin’ buddy.”

“Well what else do you expect from Remington Steele?” Remington retorted as he shared a meaningful look with Laura, marvelling at her powers of deduction, keeping perfectly in character as he did so, giving the impression that he’d known Hannah Dillon was the killer all along.  
  


Epilogue  
  
The next day, Remington and Laura were in the limo, Remington reading a newspaper, which had a picture of him shaking hands with Jim Meecham plastered on the front page, the headline reading “Steele Saves Oilman’s Life”.  
  
“Really, Laura, this is shocking. If I were you, I’d have a word with the press. Do you realize not one of these stories mentions your name?” he commented.

“One learns to live with it,” Laura replied with a sigh, somewhat resigned to the fact, then added, “That was nice, donating the money you won in that polo match to Wallace’s mission”.

“He was a nice man, and a hell of a burglar. I think the entire staff can be rather proud of this one,” Remington stated.

“The entire staff thanks you” Laura replied with a smile.

“However, there is one small thing that puzzles me. How did I know it was Mrs. Dillon and not her son?” Remington asked.

“Or Meecham,” Laura reminded him of his theory.

“Or Meecham,” he agreed.

“Remember? She was the only one who drank that tea, and when it turned up in the stable and in Wallace’s stomach..” she explained as she snapped her fingers.  
  
“God, I’m good,” Remington stated with a cheeky lopsided grin as he put his sunglasses on and Laura found herself grinning as well.

THE END

  
  



End file.
